


Our World, Our History

by breakdancingsigma (hetawholockvengerstuck)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Baltic Countries, Colonial America, F/M, Gen, Historical Hetalia, M/M, Multi, Soviet Union
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:46:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hetawholockvengerstuck/pseuds/breakdancingsigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has changed. It's changing still. And there are some who have lived through it all, and will continue to live through it. These are their stories.</p><p>A collection of historical Hetalia stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Singing Revolution (Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The Singing Revolution is a commonly used name for events between 1987 and 1991 that led to the restoration of the independence of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania_
> 
> \--Wikipedia, _Singing Revolution_
> 
>    
>  _23 August 1989: 'Baltic Way'. Some two million people form a human chain from Vilnius to Tallinn to call for independence._
> 
> \--Lievan, Anatol. _The Baltic Revolution: Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and the Path to Independence_.

**_August 23, 1989_ **

The chain started in Vilnius.

 _"Lietuva, Tėvyne mūsų,_  
_Tu didvyrių žeme,_  
_Iš praeities Tavo sūnūs_  
_Te stiprybę semia..."_

Lithuania sprinted in front of the line of people, singing to himself. He was surprised at how strong he felt already; years of repression, hearing that awful anthem that had been picked for him, were being wiped away, if only for a moment.

The plan demanded that he leave Vilnius behind, travelling to the middle of the chain. He'd be one of the only Lithuanians out so far, but it didn't matter. He knew he wouldn't forget this sound for a long, long time.

* * *

The chain started in Tallinn.

" _Mu isamaa, mu õnn ja rõõm,_  
_kui kaunis oled sa!_  
_Ei leia mina iial teal_  
_see suure, laia ilma peal,_  
_mis mul nii armas oleks ka,_  
_kui sa, mu isamaa!"_

He'd heard the tune many times over the years, in a way, and for that he thanked Finland. The tunes of their national anthems were so similar that the instrumental of one brought comfort to the other. But now...now was different. Now people sang the words, belted them out, and it was so much better.

Estonia regretted that he couldn't stay. He wanted nothing more than to join the chain, link arms and hands with his people, and sing with them. But he'd promised. He had to run all the way to the middle, because there were no cars to take him; he had to join the people of his neighboring country. But while he ran across his homeland, he could add his voice to the mix, stir up their spirits and keep the protest going. 

* * *

The chain met in Latvia.

 _"Dievs, svētī Latviju,_  
_Mūs' dārgo tēviju,_  
_Svētī jel Latviju,_  
_Ak, svētī jel to!"_

At first, he hadn't been sure how to sing it. Should he use the traditional words? That would inspire unity. Should he show pride? That would bolster his people. In the end, as the people of Latvia chose their songs, chose their lyrics, he went with what felt right.

They were late. Not by much, but it was enough to make him worry. He'd left a space on either side of him, breaking the chain. Every second that passed with that gap unfilled only served to rattle Latvia's nerves. What if they didn't come? What if they'd been found out, detained, captured? What if this whole thing failed? He was starting to get strange looks; people were whispering about the broken chain instead of singing. He swallowed nervously.

Cheers from the right. Lithuania jogged along the chain, breathing heavily, but still smiling. He took a moment to catch his breath--only a moment--before he grasped Latvia's hand firmly in his own and began singing his song.

It wasn't long before the cheering was echoed on the left, and Estonia came into view, waving a bit but clearly winded. When he was nearly to his spot, a large woman grabbed him by the hand and swung him into place before belting out the song at the top of her voice. 

Estonia smiled down at Latvia before completing the chain and singing his own song.

As time went on, Lithuania and Estonia gained momentum, and their voices could be heard clearly on either side of Latvia. Their smiles had fallen into intense looks of determination, but Latvia couldn't help grinning. 

For the moment, it was almost as if he were part of a family.

* * *

They didn't know if this would change anything. They didn't know if the world could see them. But if anyone was watching, they hoped this would make an impact. 

Hands clasped tight in a human chain, they sang their rebellion. They sang the songs that the Soviets had banned, and nothing had ever sounded sweeter.

Estonia. Latvia. Lithuania.

 _"Su üle Jumal valvaku_  
_mu armas isamaa!_  
_Ta olgu sinu kaitseja_  
_ja võtku rohkest õnnista,_  
_mis iial ette võtad sa,_  
_mu kallis isamaa!"_

 _"Kur latvju meitas zied,_  
_Kur latvju dēli dzied,_  
_Laid mums tur laimē diet,_  
_Mūs' Latvijā!"_

 _"Tegul meilė Lietuvos_  
_Dega mūsų širdyse,_  
_Vardan tos, Lietuvos_  
_Vienybė težydi!"_

Unity. Independence.

Revolution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've done my best to find accurate lyrics for these songs, and to make sure they were sung during this time period. Unfortunately, if you google the Singing Revolution, you get a movie about Estonia, which really doesn't help when I'm looking for Lithuanian and Latvian songs. I ended up going with the national anthems. If I've messed something up--be it lyrics or historical accuracy--please let me know!
> 
> I've used the first and last verses of the Estonian and Lithuanian songs, not the full lyrics.
> 
> Estonian:  
> My fatherland, my joy and happiness,  
> How beautiful you are!  
> I shall not find such ever  
> In this huge wide world  
> Which would be so dear to me  
> As you, my fatherland!...
> 
> May God watch over you,  
> My precious fatherland!  
> Let Him be your defender  
> And provide bountiful blessings  
> For whatever you undertake,  
> My precious fatherland!
> 
> Latvian:  
> God bless Latvia,  
> Our beloved fatherland.  
> Bless Latvia,  
> Oh bless it, we beseech thee!
> 
> Where Latvian daughters bloom,  
> Where Latvian sons sing,  
> Let us dance happily there,  
> In our Latvia!
> 
> Lithuania:  
> Lithuania, our homeland,  
> Land of heroes!  
> Let your sons draw their strength  
> From our past experience....
> 
> May the love of Lithuania  
> Brightly burn in our hearts.  
> For the sake of this land,  
> Let unity blossom!


	2. Even Old New York... (America & Netherlands)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...was once New Amsterdam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time period: circa 1660  
> Place: Near New Amsterdam, New Netherlands (modern-day New York City)

It was a clear, cold day in winter. In the distance, four men wielding heavy clubs played a game of _kolf_. Usually, Netherlands would have asked to join, but on this day, he was content to watch.

It wasn't long before he became aware of another observer, watching the game intently, clearly fascinated.

Netherlands had never seen this man--or, rather, boy, for he seemed to have barely reached his teens--but there was something familiar about him. Try as he might, he simply couldn't place that stray tuft of hair or bright blue eyes.

He approached the shivering boy unnoticed. " _Waarom ben je hier_?"

The boy turned, startled, quickly assembling a smile on his face. "Uh, sorry, I don't speak...whatever that was."

Netherlands narrowed his eyes and reworded his question. "What's an Englishman doing here?"

"I'm not English."

"You speak English."

"Well, so do you!"

Inwardly, Netherlands laughed. "Your accent. I've never heard anything like it before. You don't sound like any of the English colonists I've met."

"I told you, I didn't come from England. I've never been across the ocean."

Cold dread drenched Netherlands. If his hunch was right--if this boy was one of them--than his position in this 'New World' could be in jeopardy. 

The young man pointed at the _kolf_ players. "What are they doing?"

"It's called _kolf_."

"Isn't it a bit cold to be out here?"

" _Kolf_ isn't allowed inside the town."

"Why not?"

"It's too dangerous."

The boy's eyes widened. "Nice! Can you teach me how to play?"

Netherlands tilted his head and regarded the boy. "I don't think you came here to learn _kolf._ "

The boy laughed. "No, not really. I'm just visiting." He shielded his eyes from the sun and peered towards New Amsterdam. "I don't know why, but I've got a feeling this place is going to be big one day. England told me not come, but I wanted to see it for myself."

Something about this boy--the childlike innocence, the cheery attitude--reminded Netherlands of his sister. Looking closely, he could see traces of his friends--and enemies--in the young man's face: Finland's smile, France's eye color in England's eye shape, his own hair color made a few shades lighter by Germanic blood. 

"Would you like me to show you around?" Netherlands asked. The boy nodded enthusiastically.

As they started the walk to New Amsterdam, the boy said, "My name's America, by the way. What's yours?"

"Lars." He didn't know why he said that; perhaps a part of him didn't want to intimidate America.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lars! Hey, do you mind if we stop for something to eat?"

"Not at all. Have you had waffles before?"

"What are waffles?"

"You'll see."

* * *

That evening, America sat at the kitchen table, waiting for England to serve him dinner. When he started eating, he made a face.

"What's wrong, America?"

"Can we have waffles tomorrow?"

"Waffles?"

"Yeah! They're really good!"

England frowned. "Where did you eat waffles?"

America looked down at his hands. "I know you said not to...but I really, really wanted to, so I went to see New Amsterdam today. This nice man named Mr. Lars showed me around, and he took me to have waffles."

"Lars? Describe him."

"Well, he had this really weird hairstyle, kind of spiky, and a scar running down his face--"

Suddenly, England banged the table with his fist, upsetting the teacups. "Damn that Netherlands! What the bloody hell is he doing here?"

America's eyes widened. "Netherlands?"

England stood up. "That idiot has been here long enough. America, I absolutely forbid you from going to that place again." He stomped towards the door and grabbed his coat.

"Where are you going, England?" America cried. 

"I need to discuss something with my boss. I'll be back as soon as I can."

England slammed the door shut behind him, leaving America alone at the table. Despite his sudden abandonment, America smiled. He hopped down from his chair, opened a drawer, and pulled out a pen, ink, and paper.

" _Dear Mattie,_

_I met one of our brothers today. His name is Netherlands, but he goes by Lars. Have you seen him? England said I'm not allowed to see him again, but I'm going to sneak away. Don't tell anyone! England's gone back to his house for a while, so it shouldn't be too hard._

_Have you tried waffles? They're delicious! Maybe France will let you have some._

_We have awesome big brothers, don't we?_

_~~Sinseerlee~~ ~~Cinceerli~~  From,_

_Alfred."_

* * *

Four years later, the Netherlands was pushed out of New Amsterdam, and the area, renamed New York, became a part of the British Empire. Although many of the people remained, Netherlands was forced to leave for Europe.

Years later, he still wasn't sure why he turned around, why he searched the crowd of faces. England, looking smug, stood at the forefront; under his arm, a boy, barely a teenager, looked back at Netherlands. He smiled sadly and waved, only slightly, so as not to catch the attention of his guardian.

For the first time in years, Netherlands smiled widely. He waved back, stood up straighter, and marched onto the ship that would carry him across the Atlantic.

As the ship sailed away, America clasped his hands.  _I promise, I'll make this place grow. I'll make you proud._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> kolf=golf  
> Waarom ben je hier=why are you here


End file.
